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NATURAL  HIS  TO  R Y S E R J £ S. 


DOGS. 


BY 

ERNEST  INGERSOLL 

FULLY  ILLUSTRATED. 


CHICAGO 

The  Interstate  Publishing  Company 


BOSTON:  30  FRANKLIN  STREET 


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DOGS. 


S to  dogs,  it 
is  one  of  the 
curious  facts 
about  them 
that  there 
are  so  many 
different 
kinds. 

One  would 
think  that 
there  were 
almost  as 
many  spe- 
cies of  dogs 
as  of  birds, 

to  judge  from  their  outward  appearance  ; yet  the 
slender-limbed,  tall  grey-hound  and  the  squatty,  bow- 
legged  bull-dog,  the  long-haired  Spitz,  and  the  shiver- 


7 


8 


Dogs. 


ing  little  skeleton  of  New  Mexico  without  any  hair  at 
all,  the  sharp-nosed,  straight-tailed  terrier  and  the 
square-jawed,  screw-tailed  pug  all  belong  to  one  and 
the  same  species,  — Canis  familiaris. 

All  these  vast  differences  have  been  brought  about 
by  the  influence  of  the  civilization  in  which  dogs 
have  lived  for  so  many  thousands  of  years.  From 
the  earliest  beginning  of  man^s  career  on  earth,  away 
back  in  those  dim  ages  so  long  ago  that  we  have 
no  records  whatever  to  refer  to,  and  only  know  about 
through  a study  of  rude  utensils  and  weapons 
of  stone,  which  are  found  buried  and  lost  where 
these  earliest  inhabitants  of  the  world  lived  and  hunted 
and  fished  — from  away  back  there,  I say,  the  dog 
has  been  a household  animal,  and  until  they 
learned  to  tame  the  wild  pig  and  harness  the  rein- 
deer, was  probably  the  only  brute  servant  of  men. 
Domestic  dogs,  then,  are  ancient  not  only,  but  uni- 
versal. In  that  century  of  wonderful  disclosures, 
the  Sixteenth,  when  so  many  new  lands  were  ex- 
plored and  unknown  nations  of  savage  men  brought 
to  the  notice  of  Europe,  everywhere,  from  pole  to 
pole,  the  navigators  discovered  tamed  dogs,  differing 
greatly  in  different  regions,  but  unmistakable. 

A second  curious  fact  is,  that  there  seems  to  be  no- 
where any  true  wild  dog. 


The  words,  wild  dog,  cannot  properly  be  applied  to 
any  animal  that  I know  of, — wild,  that  is  in  the 
sense  of  having  been*  forever  so,  as  are  the  wolves. 

Some  countries  have  contained,  and  perhaps  do 
yet,  wild  horses,  none  of  whose  ancestors  ever  felt 
the  pull  of  a rein  on  their  nervous  lips.  But  the 
proudly  free  horses  which  I saw  last  summer  in  Kan- 
sas and  Wyoming,  rushing  like  a whirlwind  over  the 
wide  plain  as  they  caught  sight  of  us,  were  not  truly 
wild  ones,  for  their  parents,  or  possibly  they  them- 
selves, had  once  been  under  the  saddle. 

Perhaps  some  of  you  who  were  at  the  Centennial 
Exhibition  will  remember  seeing  in  one  of  the  Aus- 
tralian departments  the  stuffed  skin  of  a dog 
mounted  in  an  erect  and  vigilant  attitude,  and  ob- 
served that  it  was  labelled  “ Dhingo/’  This  is  the 
wild  dog  ” of  Australia.  It  roams  in  small  compa- 
nies, called  ‘‘  packs,’^  over  the  hills  and  through  the 
woods  of  that  continent,  hunting  for  itself,  keeping 
away  from  the  Blackfellows  — as  the  natives  are 
called  — behaving  always  in  an  exceedingly  savage 
manner  and  refusing  to  become  tamed  or  in  the  least 
docile  when  one  happens  to  be  caught,  which  is 
rarely. 

Yet  I think  no  one  claims  that  this  is  one  of  the 
indigenous  wild  beasts  of  Australia  like  the  kanga- 


TO 


Dogs. 


roo.  Undoubtedly  it  is  a case  where  a breed  of 
dogs,  which  years  ago  was  domestic,  has  now  be- 
come utterly  untamed.  This  could  easily  happen  in 
such  a land  as  Australia,  where  the  natives  are  con- 
tinually at  war,  and  every  few  years,  or  decades,  the 
whole  population  of  one  district  will  be  swept  off  by 
a more  powerful  tribe  from  some  other.  In  the 
course  of  such  a history  there  might  be  a time 
when,  because  it  was  such  dangerous  ground  or  for 
some  other  reason,  a region  once  inhabited  by  man 
would  be  wholly  deserted  as  a home  and  the  dogs 
left  to  care  for  themselves.  Finding  they  could  do  it 
well  enough  in  that  land  of  plenty,  it  would  not  be 
strange  if  they  became  so  very  fond  of  liberty  as 
never  to  be  willing  to  return  to  their  old  place  by  the 
fireside. 

The  fact  is  that  in  South  Africa  to-day,  packs  of 
wild,  hound-like  dogs  roam  over  the  plains,  consort 
ing  with  the  jackals  and  hyenas  in  feeding  upon  what 
the  lions  leave,  and  when  this  fails,  hunting  for  them- 
selves. But  it  is  perfectly  well  known  that  these  de- 
moralized, blood-thirsty  hounds  are  those  which  have 
escaped  from  the  early  Dutch  colonists,  who  settled 
near  Cape  Town  and  in  KafBr-Land. 

All  these  dogs,  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  from  the 
tough  guardians  at  the  Alpine  hospice  to  the  flannel- 


muffled  pet  of  a Boston  boudoir,  are  alike  in  struct- 
ure however  much  they  may  differ  in  size  and  out- 
ward appearance.  The  bones  of  different  species  of 
animals,  even  those  closely  allied,  like  the  red  and 
gray  foxes,  show  certain  features  by  which  you  can 
recognize  them  apart  from  mere  size  or  shape,  and  by 
which  you  can  separate  them  from  other  species ; but 
if  you  should  take  the  skulls  of  the  hundred  or  more 
varieties  of  the  canine  race  — 

** as  many  dogs  there  be, 

Both  mongrel,  puppy,  whelp,  and  hound. 

And  curs  of  low  degree,’’ 

you  could  not  distinguish  them  by  what  anatomists 
call  any  “ specific  character.”  Moreover,  if  you  take 
dogs  belonging  to  a particular  part  of  the  world,  like 
those  of  Kamtchatka,  where  they  have  not  been 
mixed  with  domestic  dogs  from  other  regions,  you 
will  find  that  you  cannot  distinguish  easily  between 
their  skulls  and  those  of  the  wolves  or  some  one 
wolf-like  beast  which  is  native  to  that  region. 

Now  that  which  I have  been  trying  to  lead  up  to 
all  this  while,  you  have  probably  foreseen,  namely : If 
the  dog  is  nowhere  known,  either  living  or  by  his  fos^ 
sil  remains,  as  a distinct,  wild  race  of  the  family 
CanidcB  to  which  he  belongs ; and  if — as  is  true—' 


12 


Dogs, 


there  is  no  single,  world- wide  animal  like  a dog  which 
men  in  all  parts  of  the  world  could  have  domestica- 
ted ; and  if  the  dogs  of  different,  uncivilized  quar- 
ters of  the  world  always  closely  resemble  the  sort  of 
wolf  which  inhabits  that  particular  region ; then  we 
may  conclude  that,  originally,  each  savage  race  tamed 
for  itself  the  wolf  which  it  knew,  and  that,  as  men 
from  different  parts  of  the  globe  mixed  more  and 
more,  and  grew  civilized,  the  appearance  of  the  va- 
rious tamed  wolves  became  more  and  more  changed 
through  mixture,  until  now,  in  many  of  them,  scarcely 
any  outward  trace  remains.  No  doubt  there  is  much 
fox  and  jackal  blood  also  in  our  dogs,  which  would 
increase  the  diversity. 

A good  example  of  how  this  comes  about  is  found 
in  the  dogs  that  throng  the  villages  of  our  northwest- 
ern Indians  and  make  life  a burden  to  all  strangers. 
But  everybody  in  that  region  understands  that  these 
dogs  are  descendants  of  the  prairie  wolves  or  coyotes, 
which  they  closely  resemble  in  the  expression  of  the 
countenance,  in  the  upright,  pointed  ears,  in  the 
bushy  tail,  often  in  color  ( which  is  not  much  matter), 
in  their  cry,  which  consists  of  three  or  four  short, 
sharp  barks  followed  by  a long,  shrill  howl,  and,  lastly, 
in  their  snappish,  thievish  dispositions.  They  are 
kicked  and  starved  by  the  Indians  until  they  are  al- 


ways  as  bad-tempered  as  possible;  and  I am  sure 
I would  just  as  willingly  go  unarmed  into  a pack  of 
coyotes.  Some  of  these  Missouri  River  Indian  dogs 
have  descended  from  many  generations  of  do- 
mestic life,  and  are  more  “ doggy  ’’  than  wolfy  ; 
but  between  these  and  true  wolves,  you  may  find 
every  grade  of  relationship  and  ferocity.  Concern 
ing  the  dogs  of  the  Indians  who  inhabited  the  East- 
ern States  when  the  Pilgrims  had  the  bad  taste  and 
good  luck  to  land  on  a certain  “ stern  and  rockbound 
coast,”  very  little  has  been  written  ; but  I saw  an 
old  record  the  other  day  which  mentioned  that  some 
explorers,  landing  on  the  eastern  shore  of  Long 
Island,  were  greatly  frightened  in  the  Montauk  vil- 
lages, by  an  attack  from  the  dogs  which  the  voyagers 
simply  call  ‘‘  tame  wolves.” 

It  is  through  long  domestication  then  — which  being 
an  unnatural  way  of  living  soon  works  great  changes  in 
animals  and  their  descendants  — and  through  mixture 
of  many  varieties  from  various  countries,  that  the  dog 
has  now  come  to  have  so  many  shapes  and  charac- 
ters. Their  grand  ancestor,  the  wolf,  has  been 
provided  with  many  striking  qualities  to  enable  him 
to  get  a living.  He  is  fleet  of  foot,  keen  of  eye,  deli- 
cate in  ear  and  nose,  able  to  endure  a vast  amount 
of  fatigue,  and  perhaps  I may  add  that  he  is  of  so- 


cial  disposition,  since  wolves  usually  go  in  companies 
and  help  each  other  in  the  hunt. 

If  we  examine  closely  we  shall  see  that  most  of  our 
many  different  sorts  of  dogs  have  been  brought  about 
by  men  purposely  cultivating  in  each  breed  one  of 
these  qualities  to  the  exclusion  of  the  rest ; but  it  has 
taken  long  centuries  of  civilized  life,  and  the  most 
careful  study  of  dog-nature. 

I presume  it  is  likely  that  the  first  real  use,  beyond 
a pet,  which  savage  men  made  of  their  tamed  wolves 
was  as  guardians  of  their  camps  while  they  travelled 
about.  The  natural  wakefulness  and  watchfulness  of 
the  brutes  at  night  was  turned  to  good  account.  The 
largest  and  most  ferocious  animal  would  be  best  here ; 
the  one  that  not  only  could  warn  his  master  of  the  ap- 
proach of  a wild  beast,  but  be  strong  enough  to  resist 
it  also.  Men,  therefore,  would  kill  all  the  little  weak 
puppies,  keeping  only  the  big-jawed,  sinewy  ones. 
And  so  a race  of  giant  dogs  would  be  had,  like  those 
great  mastiffs  and  hounds  which  exist  to  this  day  in 
Russia  and  parts  of  Asia,  where  bears  are  trouble- 
some. 

Having  got  dogs  able  to  protect  their  masters,  cop- 
ing successfully  in  battle  with  wild  beasts,  it  would 
be  very  natural  that  the  early  savage  men,  who  were 
without  any  better  means  of  killing  game  than  stone 


Dogs, 


15 


axes  and  spears,  rude  bows  and  arrows,  or  slings,  af- 
forded, should  next  try  to  make  their  dogs  not  only 
watchmen  but  aids  in  hunting. 

But,  for  this  purpose,  a different  animal  would  be 
required.  The  great  mastiffs  and  bull-dogs,  useful  to 
stand  and  fight  a bear,  are  too  heavy  and  muscular 
to  chase  a wild  ox  or  deer  and  drag  it  down.  So,  the 
longest-legged,  lightest-bodied  puppies  would  also  be 
saved  and  trained  to  go  on  hunting  expeditions  with 
their  masters ; while  the  great  watch-dogs  stayed  at 
home  in  the  camp  to  guard  the  women  and  children, 
who,  very  likely,  already  had  tamed  foxes  and  small 
wolves,  and  so  were  beginning  the  toy  breeds  that  la- 
dies delight  to  make  pets  of  at  present. 

Now  it  is  a curious  fact  in  the  case  of  all  sorts  of 
animals,  that  the  young  closely  resemble  their  parents, 
not  onl)’’  in  color  and  shape  and  size,  but  also  in  their 
manner  of  thinking  and  acting;  if  there  is  any  differ- 
ence they  exceed  their  parents  in  those  particulars 
which  make  the  father  and  mother  peculiar.  The 
colts  of  the  huge  Canadian  horses  that  draw  the 
express  wagons  and  heavy  trucks  over  the  city  pave- 
ments, are  able  to  pull  just  as  heavy  loads  as  their 
fathers  did ; while  the  colt  of  a fast  trotter  will  run  a 
mile  in  the  same  small  number  of  minutes,  or  proba- 
bly a little  less  than  his  sire. 


It  didn’t  take  long  for  men  to  learn  this,  and  find 
that  every  new  generation  improved  upon  the  strength 
and  vigilance  of  the  watch-dogs,  and  the  fleetness 
and  keen-scentedness  of  the  hunting-dogs. 

What  I am  trying  to  show  is  this  : that  all  the  va- 


rious sorts  of  dogs,  which  we  see  every  day  and 
which  are  shown  to  such  splendid  advantage  in  the 
bench-shows  that  take  place  every  year  in  our  princi- 
pal cities,  were  brought  about  in  the  beginning 
through  the  wish  of  men  to  train  dogs  for  particular 


Dogs, 


i7 


purposes,  and  by  means  of  that  law  of  nature  which 
dictates  that  when  the  father  and  mother  are  alike  the 
young  one  will  tend  to  have  all  the  strong  points  of 
both. 

Now,  just  look  at  how  many  different  purposes 
dogs  could  be  made  useful  for. 

First,  for  guarding  property. 

These  must  be  wide-awake  and  big-voiced  and 
strong.  I'hey  must  have  an  idea  that,  on  no  account 
are  they  to  desert  their  post,  either  to  be  lured  away 
by  tempting  morsels  of  meat  or  frightened  away  by 
any  threats.  It  is  their  business  to  suspect  every 
body  who  comes  about  the  premises  at  night  to  be  a 
robber,  and  they  must  attack  anything  without 
flinching.  How  many  stories  might  be  told  of 
such  dogs ! Cases  have  been  known  where  their 
sense  of  duty  was  so  great  that  they  have  starved  to 
death  rather  than  desert  a piece  of  property  which 
their  master  had  commanded  them  to  stay  and 
guard. 

It  is  such  dogs  that  take  the  strongest  liking  to 
their  masters  or  mistresses,  and,  looking  on  them  per- 
haps as  so  much  property,  defend  them  from  every 
harm  and  stay  by  them  when  they  are  lost  or  hurt. 
We  recall  at  once  scores  of  anecdotes  of  rescue  from 
drowning  by  Newfoundlands,  of  defence  against  high- 


Dogs. 


i8 

waymen  by  mastiffs,  of  travelers  dragged  by  the  no- 
ble dogs  of  St.  Bernard  out  of  a snowy  bed,  where 
they  sank  down  to  a last  freezing  sleep,  instance 
after  instance  where  the  brute  companion  finding 
himself  powerless  to  help  his  loved  master  has  gone 
and  got  aid  in  time. 

Then,  there  are  all  the  admirable  kinds  of  dogs 
used  in  sporting.  The  slender  greyhound  must  over- 
take by  speed  the  swiftest-footed  hare,  and  be  quick 
enough  to  turn  with  it  when  it  doubles  on  its  tracks. 
The  heavier,  larger  deer-hound  not  only  has  to  chase 
the  leaping  stag  and  antelope,  but  spring  upon  it,  fell 
it  to  the  ground  and  hold  it  there  until  the  hunter 
comes  up.  Both  of  these  go  by  sight,  and  thus  are 
wolf-like,  only  much  faster.  But  most  hunting-dogs 
follow  their  nose.  All  animals  leave  behind  them, 
on  the  ground,  a smell  which  is  too  faint  for  our  un- 
educated nostrils  to  perceive.  But  wild  animals 
have  an  advantage  over  us  here,  which  has  been  im- 
proved on  in  dogs  through  careful  management  in 
breeding,  until  the  sense  of  smell  — the  nosCy  as  it  is 
called  — of  some  species  is  wonderful. 

Watch  the  eager  way  in  which  fox-hounds  will  seek 
about  the  woods  when  they  are  let  out  of  their  ken- 
nels. They  are  scenting  something.  Suddenly  one 
sets  up  a ringing  bark,  and  away  they  all  go  upon 


19 


Dogs. 

the  track  of  a fox,  whose  only  trace  of  having  been 
there  a half-hour  or  more  ago  is  the  scent  left  by  his 
velvet  foot  as  it  lightly  touched  the  leaves  and  grass 
over  which  he  sprung.  How  slender  a trail  1 Yet 
the  sure  dog  follows  it  in  all  its  windings  and  at  a 
rate  which  makes  a swift  horse  pant  to  keep  up  with. 

But  a more  wonderful  nose  yet,  perhaps,  is  pos- 
sessed by  pointers  and  setters,  — the  handsome  dogs 
used  by  gunners  in  shooting  grouse,  quails,  snipes 
and  other  game  birds.  Here  a peculiar  set  of  quali- 
ties has  been  developed  by  man,  and  habits  ingrained 
into  a strain  of  dogs  which  no  wild  animal  that  I 
know  of  uses.  It  is  the  business  of  hounds,  as  I 
have  said,  after  finding  an  animal  to  chase  and  catch 
it ; but  a dog  would  naturally  be  unable  to  do  this 
with  a bird,  which  would  spread  its  wings  and  be  out 
of  reach  long  before.  The  help  which  a dog  could 
give  in  bird-shooting,  is  only  in  the  way  of  finding 
the  bird. 

Setters  and  pointers,  therefore,  are  dogs  wherein 
delicacy  of  scent  and  intelligence  have  been  very 
highly  developed ; and  that  are  taught  to  range  about 
the  field  until  they  catch  the  odor  of  a sitting  quail  or 
woodcock,  wafted  to  them  on  the  summer  breeze. 
Observe  such  a dog  once.  You  will  see  him  stop 
short  in  his  tracks,  one  foot  raised  as  if  another  step 


20 


Dogs, 

was  half  made,  and  slowly  turn  his  head  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  odor,  while  his  whole  body  stiffens  into 
the  stillness  and  rigidity  of  stone  and  his  eye  glazes 
with  the  dead  earnestness  of  his  attention.  He  is 
pointing  at  a bird  which  sits  there  before  him,  quak- 
ing with  terror  yet  fearing  to  stir.  Sometimes  the 
gunner  is  a long  time  coming  up  and  ordering  his 
dog  to  rush  forward  and  scare  the  bird  up  so  that  he 
can  shoot  it  as  it  flies ; but  the  pointer,  knowing 
that  all  depends  on  his  immovability,  stands  there 
like  a rock,  till  his  bones  ache  and  his  muscles 
crack  with  fatigue. 

There  is  a story  that  a pointer  was  thus  accident- 
ally left  behind  by  his  master  once.  Some  years 
afterward,  another  gunner  passing  that  way  found 
the  skeleton  of  a dog  standing  firmly,  with  out- 
stretched head  and  tail,  pointing  steadily  at  the 
bones  of  a quail  a little  way  ahead.  But  I think 
there  must  be  some  mistake  about  the  exact  truth  of 
this. 

Setters  and  pointers  differ  from  one  another  mainly 
in  the  former  having  a long,  silky  coat,  and  the  other 
hair  of  scarcely  any  length  at  all.  Both  are  used  in . 
the  same  way,  and  each  is  susceptible  of  very  high 
education  in  the  art  of  hunting  birds  and  in  that  af- 
fection and  politeness  which  belongs  to  a good  house- 


Dogs. 


21 


dog.  The  puppies  of  both  these  varieties  when  first 
taken  into  the  field  without  any  previous  training, 
will  come  to  a real  point  on  the  first  bird  they  catch 
the  scent  of  and  stand  there,  though  not  so  firmly,  of 
course,  as  the  older  and  trained  ones. 

Now,  this  shows  plainly  enough  that  men  have 
changed  to  suit  their  purposes,  not  only  the  bodies  of 
dogs  until  they  are  as  widely  different  as  a Dandie 
Dinmont  and  a Russian  bloodhound,  but  also  their 
minds ; so  that  a watch-dog  will  guard  a piece  of  his 
master’s  meat  to  the  point  of  starvation  without 
touching  it,  and  a setter  will  get  the  bird  he  has 
found  but  has  stopped  before  killing  for  himself,  and 
bring  it  unbitten  to  the  gunner’s  feet. 

These  and  many  other  characteristics,  which  show 
true  fidelity,  sagacity  that  can  understand  and  rea- 
son enough  to  take  advantage  of  good  circumstances 
and  avoid  bad  ones,  a conscience  that  tells  the  dog 
when  he  is  wrong  and  makes  him  miserable,  a heart 
susceptible  to  joy  or  grief,  and,  I am  bound  to  be- 
lieve, a soul  having  somewhat  of  immortality  about 
it ; all  these  have  been  unfolded  by  man’s  care  and 
guidance  from  the  rude  cunning  of  wild  wolf-nature 
as  the  rain  and  sunshine  bring  rich  flower-petals 
from  the  rough  scales  of  the  bud. 

But  there  is  another  side. 


/. 


33  Dogs. 

Take  away  the  care  and  selection  exercised  over  them 
constantly  by  their  masters,  set  all  the  dogs  free  in  an 
uncivilized  world  again  ( if  it  were  possible  ) to  mingle 
without  restraint,  and  slowly  the  marked  excellence  of 
each  kind  would  disappear  and  the  splendid  faculties 
degenerate.  The  pointers  and  setters  seeing  no  gunner 


THE  SETTER. 


4 

behind  them  would  no  longer  stand  stock-still  when  they 
found  a quail,  but  would  rush  after  it  for  themselves. 
The  retrievers  would  fail  to  carry  their  game  to  any 
one  else,  but  eat  it  on  the  spot  The  watch-dogs 
finding  their  property  valueless  would  forget  how  to 
guard  anything  but  their  own  prey.  The  toy  ter- 
riers and  poodles  and  King  Charles  spaniels  and 


23 


Dogs. 

pugs  and  all  the  other  little  dogs,  I fear,  would  die  of 
fright  and  cold  and  enemies,  when  the  velvet  cush- 
ions had  to  be  abandoned  and  the  tender  hands  of 
their  fair-haired  mistresses  no  longer  fed  them  with 
dainties ; if,  indeed,  most  of  the  big  dogs  also  did 
not,  so  unused  would  they  be  to  depending  upon 
themselves.  The  qualities  most  artificial,  most  unnat- 
ural to  dogs,  would  disappear  first,  while  such  new 
and  valuable  accomplishments  as  fleetness  would  be 
well  retained.  Those  kinds  nearest  the  wolves,  like 
the  Esquimaux  sledge-dogs  and  the  vagabond  curs  of 
the  streets,  would  doubtless  fare  the  best ; but,  after 
a century  or  so,  it  would  probably  be  hard  to  recognize 
the  varieties  which  now  we  call  by  name  or  to  find 
in  them  more  than  a trace  of  the  faculties  in  which 
they  once  excelled. 

Yet  I cannot  think  that  the  whole  effect  of  their 
civilized  life  would  be  lost,  and  that  the  dogs  of  the 
world,  become  wild  again,  would  be  no  better  for 
having  served  an  apprenticeship  to  men. 

On  the  contrary,  I believe  they  would  teach  each 
other  and  the  wolves  with  which  they  would  mix  in 
the  wilderness,  some  of  the  different  tricks  which 
each  had  learned,  and  impart  much  of  the  varied  in- 
telligence they  had  acquired ; and  that  a race  of  wild 
animals  of  marvelous  power  and  cunning  would  re- 


24 


Dogs, 


suit  — a race  which  would  rapidly  improve  again,  as 
a whole,  ( when  once  the  individuality  of  each  breed 
was  lost  and  the  limit  of  the  reversion  toward  the 
original  type  had  been  reached  ) in  an  equality  of 
strength  and  sagacity,  which  should  make  them  rulers 
among  wild  beasts 


MR.  HOLMES’  DOG  JACK. 


“ ^^HALL  I wear  my  besfest  jacket,  mamma?” 

wZ/  asked  Natty  Holmes,  his  eyes  sparkling  with 
animation,  while  he  tossed  from  a wardrobe  every 
garment  he  possessed. 

“ Natty,  do  wait  until  I can  find  it  for  you  ! Your 
hands  and  face  must  be  bathed  before  you  dress  ! ” 
exclaimed  his  mother. 

“ My  face  'nd  hands  were  washed  last  night,  dread- 
ful clean.  I can't  see  a speck  o'  dirt,  and  it'll  rub 
the  skin  off,  a-washin'  and  a-washin',”  argued  the 
child. 

But  mamma  was  not  afraid  of  this  dire  effect,  and 

2,^ 


26 


Mr.  Holmes^  Dog  Jack. 


scrubbed  the  plump  cheek  and  chubby  fingers  until 
they  were  as  rosy  as  a Baldwin  apple. 

Hair-dressing  came  next,  and  in  this  operation  the 
child  proved  stout  of  lungs,  and  slippery  as  an  eel, 
maintaining  defiantly  that  dog  Jack  “didn’t  have  his 
hair  combed.-’ 

“Jack  keeps  himself  as  nice  as  he  knows  how. 
Wouldn’t  you  feel  ashamed  to  have  your  dog  neater 
than  you  ? ” asked  Mrs.  Holmes. 

“ Guess  I should  ! never  caught  me  washing  in  the 
mud-puddle,  on  all  fours,”  complacently  rejoined 
Natty. 

“ Precious  near  it,  counting  knees,  you  small  mis- 
chief ! ” remarked  the  mother,  half  to  herself  j adding 
aloud,  “ Now  the  collar  and  bow,  and  you’re  ready. 
Jack  is  out  looking  for  the  stage.” 

All  this  bustle,  at  Mr.  Holmes’farm,  that  morning, 
was  because  Natty  expected  to  visit  the  city  for  the 
first  time  in  the  four  summers  of  his  life.  Since  five 
o’clock  he  had  not  slept  for  thinking  of  it. 

Hearing  at  this  moment  the  stage,  he  made  his 
small  legs  fly  like  windmills,  lest  it  should  leave  him. 
Once  in  the  coach,  he  wanted  the  horses  to  “ hurry 
up,”  or  the  cars  would  start  without  hini. 

But  when  the  depot  was  reached,  and  the  engine 
approached,  puffing  and  blowing,  he  ran  to  his  father 


Mr.  Holmes'  Dog  yack. 


27 


in  fright,  begging  to  be  taken  from  '''‘that  beastes 
and  was  not  willing  to  enter  the  cars,  until  he  saw 
Jack  walk  in  as  fearlessly  as  into  the  kitchen  at  home. 
What  Jack  did.  Natty  thought  was  safe  for  him,  and 
he  followed  the  dog  to  a seat. 

Now  began  the  wonder  of  wonders  ! Trees,  bushes, 
houses  and  stone  walls  ran  races,  and  even  the  peo- 
ple darted  about  as  if  shot  from  a pop  gun. 

Arrived  at  the  city,  wheels,  horses,  and  men, 
crowded  and  jostled  so  much  he  wished  himself  back 
where  there  was  plenty  of  room  for  the  little  boys. 
But  presently  his  whole  attention  was  absorbed  by  a 
window  filled  with  candies ; red,  white,  brown,  and 
yellow.  Not  a step  would  he  advance  until  his  father 
had  bought  him  some ; and  if  after  that  his  mouth 
had  queer  curves,  you  can  imagine  the  cause. 

From  this  call  at  the  candy  store.  Natty  visited  va- 
rious places,  where  he  saw  many  things  to  question 
about ; then  his  father  took  him  to  dine  at  a hotel. 
Here  the  waiters  confused  him  and  almost  took  away 
his  appetite  ; yet  he  contrived  to  eat  turkey  and  plum 
pudding  enough  to  make  him  dreadfully  sleepy,  and 
at  the  very  first  office  his  father  entered,  after  dinner, 
he  climbed  upon  a lounge  and  went  fast  asleep. 

Jack  had  been  separated  from  his  master  several 
hours,  having  a large  circle  of  friends  upon  whom  he 


/. 


28  Mr.  Holmes'  Dog  J^ack. 

called  when  he  came  to  town.  Being  on  this  day 
invited  to  share  a bone  with  a black-and-tan  dog,  he 
had  not  come,  as  usual,  to  dinner.  Now,  however,  just 
as  Natty  took  his  nap,  he  barked  at  the  office  door, 
and,  at  once  admitted,  sat  down  by  the  sleeping  boy. 

After  a while,  Mr.  Holmes,  knowing  how  faithfully 
Jack  would  guard  Natty,  left  the  two  there  while  he 
finished  his  errands. 

As  this  story  never  would  have  been  written  but  for 
Jack,  he  deserves  some  special  notice  here.  I must 
confess  he  was  as  homely  a dog  as  ever  barked.  His 
neck  was  short  and  fat,  his  body  big  and  clumsy, 
his  nose  square  and  stubby,  and  he  wore  a dark  gray 
coat,  without  a black  or  white  ornament.  Even  his 
tail  was  not  much  to  speak  of,  and  it  stood  up  stiff  in 
the  air,  instead  of  curling  gracefully  at  the  end. 

Only  his  eyes  conveyed  the  slightest  idea  of  supe- 
rior intelligence ; these  were  almost  hunian  in  their 
expression,  and  grew  dull  or  bright  as  he  was  happy 
or  unhappy. 

His  tail,  too,  though  such  a guy  of  a tail,  was  a 
true  flag  of  distress  or  rejoicing;  no  matter  in  how 
commonplace  a tone  Jack's  name  was  spoken,  if  the 
remark  was  approving  it  waved  gaily  in  pride  ; but  if 
otherwise,  drooped  in  shame. 

The  children  of  the  Holmes  family  were  special 


Mr,  Holmes^  Dog  yack. 


29 


objects  of  his  affection.  Nothing  could  injure  them 
while  he  was  near. 

He  was  often  sent  to  the  market  for  meat,  and  al- 
ways brought  it  promptly  and  safely;  thus  proving 
himself  more  worthy  of  trust  than  some  handsome 
dogs. 

We  will  now  look  in  at  the  office,  where  we  left  him, 
guarding  his  little  master.  By  some  canine  time- 
piece, Jack  knows  the  hour  has  come  for  the  train  to 
start.  He  barks  and  tugs  at  Natty,  until  he  wakens 
him ; then  darts  through  the  door,  and  out  into  the 
street.  The  child  follows,  satisfied  the  dog  under- 
stands the  ways  of  the  world.  Straight  to  the  depot 
trots  the  animal,  and  the  boy  keeps  close  to  him. 

There  Jack  looks  uneasily  for  Mr.  Holmes,  uttering 
one  or  two  growls,  expressive  of  his  disapproval  of 
such  tardiness. 

Soon  the  train  appears,  but  not  the  father.  Jack 
does  not  any  longer  hesitate,  evidently  recalling  other 
instances  of  the  forgetfulness  of  his  master ; he  barks 
furiously  for  the  child  to  enter  the  train  and  jumps  in 
after  him.  The  conductor  recognizing  the  pair,  and 
supposing  the  father  to  be  in  another  car,  allows  them 
to  take  seats,  and  is  amused  to  see  the  dog  mount 
sentinel  at  the  window. 

In  the  mean  time  Mr,  Holmes  had  become  so  ab- 


Mr.  Hohnes'  Dog  Jack. 


7P 

sorbed  in  business  affairs  as  to  forget  about  his  child  ; 
and  not  only  that,  but  when  he  went  to  the  depot  he 


carelessly  took  passage  for  a town  in  an  opposite  di- 
rection from  his  own ! Discovering  his  mistake,  he 


Mr.  Holmes^  Dog  ^ack. 


31 


was  also  reminded  of  Natty  and  Jack;  still,  believ- 
ing them  at  his  friend^s  office,  was  more  amused  at 
his  absent-mindedness,  than  alarmed  for  them. 

At  the  next  station  he  was  able  to  return  to  the 
city,  and  hastened  at  once  for  Natty.  What  was  his 
anxiety  to  learn  he  had  gone  away  with  the  dog,  and 
could  not  be  found  ! Mr.  Holmes  thought  of  Charlie 
Ross,  and  all  the  dreadful  stories  he  knew  of  lost 
children,  and  was  almost  beside  himself  with  anxiety. 

Not  knowing  what  else  to  do,  he  inquired  at  the 
depot  if  a dog  and  child  had  been  seen  there.  He 
was  greatly  surprised  to  hear  they  had  been  noticed 
taking  the  four-thirty  train  to  Kingston. 

His  first  feeling  was  one  of  relief,  but  soon  he 
feared  neither  child  or  dog  would  be  wise  enough  to 
stop  at  the  proper  station,  but  would  ride  as  far  as 
the  cars  would  take  them.  Then,  alone  in  a strange 
place,  tired  and  bewildered,  what  might  not  happen 
to  his  darling  I 

Mr.  Holmes  telegraphed  to  the  agent  at  the  termi- 
nus of  the  road,  to  learn  if  Natty  was  there,  and  re- 
ceived a negative  reply.  Where  could  he  have  gone  ? 
Had  some  stranger  taken  him  home  with  him  ? A 
thousand  terrible  possibilities  haunted  the  father. 
How  could  he  meet  the  mother  without  her  boy  ? yet 
he  must  go  home  before  he  searched  farther,  clinging 


32 


Mr,  Holmes*  Dog  yack. 


to  the  faintest  hope  that  Natty  might  be  there.  The 
journey  thither,  however,  was  the  longest  and  hardest 
he  ever  took. 

As  he  stepped  upon  the  platform  in  Kingston,  an 
old  countryman  spoke  to  him.  “ I say,  Mr.  Holmes  ! 
what’ll  you  take  for  that  dog  o’  yourn  .?  He’s  the 
knowingest  creetur’  going.  When  he  came  with  your 
little  chap  ter-night,  he  got  by  the  winder,  and  kept 
watch  o’  the  places,  and  wouldn’t  let  him  stir  till  the 
train  got  here  ; then  he  barked  until  the  conductor 
took  the  child  off.  When  he  knows  Flint’s  Corner  as 
well  as  this  ’ere,  what  kept  him  from  a-stoppin’  there, 
takes  a smarter  man’n  I be  to  tell.  Mighty  euros ^ 
that’s  a fact ! ” 

The  father  was  quite  overcome  with  joy  to  learn  of 
his  boy’s  safety,  and  of  course  wouldn’t  sell  Jack  at 
any  price. 

Hastening  to  his  family,  he  bore  patiently  Mrs. 
Holmes’  comments  on  his  failing  memory,  confessing 
he  deserved  them. 

It  was  true,  as  the  countryman  related  — Jack 
watched  at  the  car  window,  not  moving,  or  permitting 
Natty  to  move,  until  the  right  station  came  in  sight ; 
then  he  made  the  child  get  out,  and  the  stage  driver 
brought  them  home.  You  can  imagine  when  Mr. 
Holmes  caressed  his  “ lost  child  found  again  ” he  did 


Mr,  Holmes^  Dog  Jack, 


33 


not  forget  to  praise  Jack  so  warmly  that  his  stub  of  a 
tail  waved  like  “ a star  spangled  banner  in  the  breeze  ; ” 
and  if  a mortal  dog  ever  merited  praise  I am  sure  you 
will  say  that  dog  did. 


SPORT  AND  HIS  TRAVELS. 


My  friend,  Mr.  Adams  of  Nantucket,  is  the  for- 
tunate owner  of  a verj^  intelligent  and  affec- 
tionate dog  named  Sport,  about  whom  I can  tell  you 
a remarkable  story. 

Sport  is  a handsome,  graceful  creature  now  about 
four  years  old,  of  mixed  blood,  but  chiefly  of  the 
Shepherd  breed,  with  short  hair  slightly  curled,  long, 
drooping  ears,  and  clear  brown  eyes.  He  is  very 
quick  and  active  in  his  movements,  very  strong  in  his 
attachments  to  friends  and  home,  and,  as  you  will 
see,  very  clear-headed  and  self-reliant. 

Sport  was  about  six  months  old  when  he  came  into 
U 


sport  and  His  Travels. 


35 


Mr.  Adams’  possession.  At  that  time  his  master  was 
clerk  of  the  steamer  “ Island  Home  ” which  runs  be- 
tween Nantucket  and  Wood’s  Hole,  stopping  on  the 
way  at  Martha’s  Vineyard.  A very  strong  affection 
grew  up  between  the  dog  and  his  master  and  one  was 
rarely  seen  without  the  other.  Sport  accompanied 
his  master  so  constantly  in  his  daily  trips  upon  the 
steamer,  that  he  came  to  be  regarded  as  one  of  the 
regular  hands  and  was  as  confidently  expected  on 
board  as  his  master ; indeed,  the  steamboat  men 
gave  him  the  title  of  “ second  mate.”  He  was  a 
great  favorite  with  all  hands,  from  the  captain  down 
to  the  steward.  I suppose  there  never  was  a regular 
deadhead  so  heartily  welcome  anywhere  as  Sport  was 
on  the  Island  Home.” 

When  Sport  was  about  a year  and  a half  old  his 
master  gave  up  his  clerkship,  and  Sport  made  no 
more  passages  on  the  steamer.  But,  like  many  other 
‘‘old  sea-dogs,”  he  was  a little  restless  on  the  land 
and  his  master  occasionally  treated  him  to  a trip  on 
a sailing-vessel  with  Captain  Hinckley,  a friend  of 
Mr.  Adams,  who  was  very  fond  of  the  dog  and  very 
careful  of  him. 

On  one  of  these  trips  Captain  Hinckley  took 
Sport  with  him  to  Fall  River,  where  he  remained  for 
three  or  four  days,  the  vessel  lying  at  the  wharf. 


3 6 Sport  and  His  Travels, 

When  the  cargo  was  discharged  and  new  freight 
taken  on  board  and  all  hands  ready  to  set  sail,  it  was 
discovered  that  Sport  was  missing.  Search  was 
made  for  him  on  the  .wharves  and  in  the  principal 
streets  of  Fall  River  but  without  success,  and  Cap- 
tain Hinckley  was  obliged  to  go  away  without  him. 
However,  he  left  a description  of  the  dog  in  the 
hands  of  the  chief  of  police,  with  orders,  if  he  should 
be  found,  to  have  him  forwarded  by  express  at  once 
to  Nantucket. 

It  was  a great  trial  to  the  good-hearted  captain  to 
tell  Mr.  Adams  that  Sport  was  lost ; and  they  both 
tried  hard  to  believe  they  would  some  day  get  some 
tidings  of  him.  But,  as  month  after  month  went  by 
without  any  news  of  him,  Mr.  Adams  at  last  made  up 
his  mind  that  he  should  never  see  his  dog  Sport 
again. 

Fifteen  months  passed  by.  I wish  I could  tell  you 
all  that  happened  to  Sport  in  that  time  — what  dif- 
ferent masters  adopted  him,  what  strange  adventures 
he  had,  what  “ hair-breadth  ^scapes  he  met  with, 
what  ‘‘  moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field  befel 
him.  In  regard  to  all  these  things  Sport  maintains 
a profound  and  dignified  reticence. 

But  this  I do  know,  that  in  fifteen  months  from  the 
time  he  was  lost  in  Fall  River,  Sport  made  his  way, 
alone  and  unaided,  from  New  Bedford  to  Nantucket. 


SPORT  KNIeW  him, 


sport  and  His  Travels. 


39 


A gentleman,  who  was  taking  passage  at  New  Bed- 
ford for  Nantucket,  saw  the  dog  and  perceived  that 
he  was  without  a master.  When  first  noticed  Sport 
was  trotting  down  the  wharf  to  the  Steamer  Mono- 
hansett.  He  went  on  board  quietly,  and,  as  he  was 
generally  supposed  to  belong  to  some  passenger,  he 
was  not  molested. 

The  Monohansett  runs  from  New  Bedford  to 
Wood’s  Hole  and  Martha’s  Vineyard.  When  all 
were  on  board,  the  boat  steamed  across  Buzzard’s 
Bay  to  Wood’s  Hole,  where  it  made  the  first  stop  and 
blew  the  whistle.  Passengers  went  on  shore  but 
Sport  remained  on  board.  Then  the  boat  crossed 
Vineyard  Sound  and  touched  at  Camp  Landing  on 
Martha’s  Vineyard.  Here,  again,  passengers  landed 
and  still  Sport  stayed  behind ; but  when  the  Mono- 
hansett reached  Oak  Bluffs,  where  the  Island  Home 
usually  touches,  Sport  bounded  on  the  wharf. 

I have  no  doubt  he  expected  to  find  the  steamer 
there  and  take  passage  on  her  for  his  beloved  Nan- 
tucket. But  it  happened  that,  during  that  season, 
the  Island  Home  did  not  stop  at  the  regular  wharf 
but  at  a landing  a little  way  off.  Sport  had  not 
heard  of  the  change  and,  for  a moment,  was  puzzled. 
But,  while  he  was  pondering  what  to  do  next,  the  Is- 
land Home  approached  and  blew  her  whistle. 

Sport  recognized  that  whistle  in  an  instant,  and 


40 


Sport  and  His  Travels. 


started  on  a brisk  run  in  the  direction  from  which 
the  sound  came.  The  moment  the  boat  touched  he 
sprang  on  board  ; but,  as  he  had  no  master  with  him 
and  was  not  at  first  recognized,  one  of  the  men 
kicked  him  off  the  boat.  But,  luckily  for  the  brave 
dog,  the  captain  of  the  boat  saw  him  and  knew  him, 
and  called  out  to  the  man  : 

Stop  that  I That  is  Adams’  dog ! Let  him  come 
on  board ! ” 

Then,  once  on  board,  it  was  good  to  see  Sport’s 
perfect  delight.  His  master  was  not  there,  but 
Sport  knew  he  was  on  the  right  track  and  felt  sure 
he  should  find  him  in  the  end.  He  rushed  about  the 
boat,  found  all  his  old  friends,  jumped  upon  them, 
licked  their  hands  and  faces,  and  was  so  wild  with 
joy  that  the  captain  w^as  afraid  he  would  go  mad, 
and  had  to  shut  him  up  by  himself  to  get  him  calmed 
down. 

When  the  Island  Home  reached  the  wharf  at  Nan- 
tucket Sport  was  first  to  land,  so  impatient  was  he  to 
reach  his  dear  master  and  his  old  home.  But  the 
captain,  who  was  proud  to  return  the  long-lost  dog  to 
his  master,  detained  him  a few  minutes  till  he  was 
ready  to  take  him  along.  On  the  way  they  met  the 
father  of  Mr.  Adams.  Sport  knew  him,  bounded 
away  from  the  captain,  nearly  upset  the  old  gentle- 


sport  and  His  Travels, 


41 


man  with  his  hearty  greeting,  and  sped  on  in  search 
of  his  master. 

I shall  leave  you  to  picture  to  yourselves  the  sur- 
prise and  delight  of  master  and  dog  v/hen  they  met 
after  their  long  separation.  I am  sure  your  imagina- 
tion will  not  exceed  the  reality. 

Sport  remembered  all  his  old  friends  and  called  on 
them  at  their  homes  soon  after  his  return. 

And  now  he  seems  well  content  to  give  up  travel- 
ling and  spend  the  rest  of  his  days  in  the  sweet 
security  of  Nantucket,  where  he  is  well  known  and 
much  loved. 


A CUNNING  DOG. 


Dogs  sometimes  exhibit  traits  that  are  almost 
human ; and  we  sometimes  wonder  whether 
Pythagoras  was  very  far  wrong  in  his  theory  that  the 
souls  of  men  at  their  death,  and  also  before  their  cre- 
ation, inhabit  the  bodies  of  animals. 

"Certainly,  if  so,  the  soul  of  a certain  little  black 
spaniel  named  “ Nig  must  originally  have  belonged 
to  some  greedy  boy  whose  indulgent  parents  fed  him 
upon  kmcknacks  until  he  died ; for  never  was  there 


42 


NIG,  YOU  MUST  BAT  THAT  FISH ! 


A Cunning  Dog. 


45 


an  animal  more  particular  in  his  tastes  with  regard  to 
food.  Many  times  Nig  would  go  supperless  to  bed 
because  his  little  master  insisted  upon  his  eating 
plain  bread  and  butter  instead  of  cake  ; and  he  was 
known  to  fast  an  entire  day  on  one  occasion,  because 
his  breakfast  consisted  of  fried  potatoes  and  beef 
bones  rather  than  .hot  rolls  of  which  he  was  extrava- 
gantly fond. 

But  little  boys  learn  to  get  their  own  way,  and  lit- 
tle dogs  are  quite  as  apt. 

After  a time,  Nig  concluded  that  the  only  sure 
method  of  obtaining  what  he  wanted  was  to  eat,  or 
hide  away,  what  was  first  given  him  and  then  beg  for 
more ; and,  therefore,  he  would  carry  off  the  crusts 
which  he  found  upon  his  plate,  bury  them  at  the  foot 
of  the  garden  and  then  return,  and  with  wagging  tail 
ask  for  a doughnut  or  a cookie  which  he  seldom 
failed  to  receive. 

By  this  and  other  tricks  the  spaniel  generally  man- 
aged to  secure  such  food  as  he  best  liked ; and,  for  a 
long  time,  the  shrewdness  which  he  exhibited  and  the 
hearty  laughs  which  he  excited  made  his  master  for 
get  how  bad  were  the  habits  which  he  was  forming. 
But  one  day  Nig  made  too  great  a fuss  about  the 
supper  which  was  set  before  him,  and,  as  a punish- 
ment, a severe  order  was  issued  : 


46 


A Cunning  Dog. 


The  dog  was  to  eat  just  what  was  left  from  the  ta- 
ble  and  nothing  more.  What  was  good  enough  for 
the  family  must  do  for  him. 

That  night  Nig  slept  in  happy  unconsciousness  of 
the  new  rule  ; but  when  morning  came  and  breakfast 
was  over  its  full  import  became  known  to  him.  For 
his  master  had  eaten  codfish  and  potato,  and  codfish 
and  potato  was  all  that  was  left  for  Master  Nig. 

A plate  with  the  fishy  food  was  prepared  and 
placed  in  Nig’s  corner,  and  he  was  invited  to  par- 
take. At  first  he  approached  with  evident  hunger 
and  delight,  sniffing  eagerly  at  the  offered  plate  j but 
when  his  nose  told  him  what  it  contained  his  counte- 
nance and  his  tail  both  fell.  He  looked  at  his  mas- 
ter in  a reproachful  manner  and  turned  sadly  away. 
He  was  called  back  and  ordered  to  eat.  Slowly  he 
returned,  but,  instead  of  eating,  he  carefully  pushed 
every  particle  of  the  food  from  the  plate  to  the  floor, 
crowded  it  close  under  the  rim  of  the  dish,  and  again 
retired  to  a chair  where  he  seated  himself,  looking 
soberly  at  the  plate  and  then  at  his  master,  as  though 
entering  a remonstrance  against  such  a breakfast. 

But  his  master  was  obdurate  and  spoke  sternly : 

“ Nig,  you  must  eat  that  fish  and  potato  before  you 
have  anything  else/’ 

No  sooner  were  the  words  spoken  than  the  dog 


A Cunning  Dog.  47 

leaped  from  the  chair,  ran  to  the  door  and  disap- 
peared. 

For  two  entire  days  nothing  was  seen  of  him  and 
his  master  began  to  fear  that  the  little  fellow  was 
lost,  when,  early  upon  the  morning  of  the  third  day. 
Nig  presented  himself  at  the  door  and  began  to  beg 
for  his  breakfast  as  usual. 

Hoping  that  the  dog’s  hunger  had  overcome  his 
scruples,  the  fish  arid  potato  was  again  presented  to 
him.  He  regarded  it  for  a moment  with  a sorrowful 
air,  ears  and  tail  drooping  low,  then  turned  and 
quietly  walked  out  of  the  door  without  tasting  it. 

This  time  he  was  gone  nearly  a week,  and  when, 
at  last,  he  returned,  his  master  succumbed.  The  ob- 
noxious fish  and  potato  was  thrown  away  and  Nig 
fared  sumptuously  upon  fresh  beef  and  hot  rolls. 

Since  that  time  the  spaniel  has  eaten  only  such 
food  as  he  prefers.  Like  many  children  he  had 
fought  the  battle  out  and  conquered. 


Shocky^ 


ISS  GRET,  re- 
turning from 
h e r errands 
one  day, 
found  the 
kitchen  hearth 
decorate  d 
with  a little 
brown  lump ; 
warm,  pulpy, 
sentient  — i n 
short,  a puppy, 
very  short,  in 
the  legs  by 
nature,  and  in 
the  ears  and 
tail  by  art; 
the  latter  members  bearing  painful  evidence  of  a 
recent  cropping.  The  young  woman  eyed  him  for  a 
48 


Shocky. 


49 


moment,  then  taking  him  by  the  nape  of  the  neck 

— no,  he  had  no  neck,  none  to  speak  of — by  the 
skin  of  his  back,  with  a clutch  that  extended  all 
the  way  from  his  ears  to  his  tail,  she  held  him  aloft. 

The  infant  yelped. 

“ Poor  pluck  ! ” said  Miss  Gret,  decisively  \ and, 
remanding  him  to  the  hearth,  she  passed  on  to  the 
dining-room. 

There  sat  Nina  at  her  dessert.  Miss  Gret  was 
late. 

“ Did  you  bring  that  little  nuisance  here  ? ’’  was 
the  lady’s  courteous  greeting  to  her  cousin.  “ Where 
did  he  come  from  ? ” 

Willie  had  brought  him  from  New  York  the  day 
before.  Captain  Somebody  had  given  him  the  dog, 
thinking  the  little  brute  too  good  to  drown;  and  now 
Aunty  said  she  wanted  him. 

“So  he’s  to  stay,  is  he?  How  big  will  he 
grow  ? ” 

Nina  indicated  his  future  length  rather  indefinitely. 
He  was  of  a nature  to  remain  a small  dog,  if  desired 
as  a house  pet ; or  large  enough  for  a watch,  if  that 
was  what  was  wanted ; in  short,  of  a convertible 
size. 

Miss  Gret,  finding  the  new-comer  was  to  be  one  of 
the  family,  wisely  determined  to  make  the  best  of 


50 


Shocky. 


/ 


him.  She  gave  him  a lunch  of  bread  and  milk,  and 
provided  a pocket-handkerchief  as  his  bed  (he  had 
reposed  on  a piece  of  brown  paper  the  night  before). 
The  lunch  was  quite  to  his  taste,  but  he  showed  little 
inclination  to  keep  his  bed  ; indeed,  he  was  in  a fair 
way  to  warrant  his  foster-mother’s  epithet  of  “ nui- 
sance ” wabbling  about  the  floor,  under  every  one’s 
feet ; dropping  down  occasionally,  anywhere,  for  slum- 
ber ; then  up  again ; forever  in  the  way. 

Nevertheless,  the  family,  with  one  exception,  took 
kindly  to  the  little  thing,  the  only  specimen  of  baby- 
hood the  house  had  known  for  many  years.  The  ex- 
ception was  Augustus,  the  big  gray  cat,  a handsome 
cat  in  appearance,  especially  in  winter,  but  ugly  in 
his  temper  all  the  year  round. 

Gustus  never  could  abide  a ri^al. 

Next  thing,  of  course,  the  young  stranger  must 
have  a name;  he  never  could  go  through  life  as  “The 
Puppy,”  merely.  His  nurse  proposed  the  stock 
names.  Carlo,  Brunc,  Hector,  Caesar  ; but  Aunty  hes- 
itated, and  the  infunt  figured  anonymously  a few  days 
longer.  Aunty  made  up  her  mind  and  an- 

nounced it.  ^'he  famM^ad  just  been  reading  “ The 
Hoosier  Schoolmaster T Said  Aunty,,: 

His  name  shall  be  Shocky T 
Shocky!  It  wasn’t  appropriate.  The  name  sug- 
gested a long-haired,  shaggy  rascal,  like  him  over  the 


Shocky. 


51 


way.  Besides,  Miss  Gret  was  not  devoted  to  the 
original  Sliocky ; she  preferred  ‘‘  Mr.  Pete  Jones,’’  that 
is,  as  an  artistic  delineation.  But  then,  “ Pete  Jones  ” 
was  no  name  for  a dog  of  standing. 

The  “Missis”  was  obdurate.  “Shocky  is  his 
name ; ” and  so  of  course  it  was. 

Shocky,  then,  became  an  institution.  He  grew  in 
size  and  in  appetite.  One  day  a hot  potato  fell  in 
his  way  ; he  dined  off  it,  and  thenceforth  bread-and- 
milk  was  contemned.  He  grew  in  mischief,  too,  and 
those  stumpy  legs  of  his  carried  him  into  places 
hitherto  sacred  and  secure.  He  tore  up  his  bed  and 
gnawed  holes  in  the  carpj^^weePSg^nder  chastise- 
ment, but  repeating  th^ffen^  Then  he  would  run 
away,  out  in  the  street,  a^  the  family  start  in  pur- 
suit, scattering  in  all  directioi}^  to  scour  the  country, 
and  boys  were  hir.ed  to^^bring  intelligence,  and  to 
bring  the  dog  if  they  could  find  him.  In  fact,  he 
was  no  end  of  trouble.  Yet,  when  held  up  “ to  be 
reasoned  with,”  there  was  such  an  innocent  look  in 
his  round  young  eyes,  that  he  got  off  cheaply  “ for 
that  time,”  ^ 

Augustus,  however,  was  not  to  be  propitiated. 
Shocky  shared  his  dinners,  and,  eating  with  all  his 
might,  Gus  was  no  match  for  the  jaws  on  the  other 
side  of  the  plate. 

*‘They  must  learn  to  eat  together,”  said  Miss  Gret ; 


university  of  ILLWOW 


/ 


5 2 Shocky. 

she  couldn^t  have  two  dishes  setting  about.  And  so 
their  meals  were  stormy  scenes,  to  the  perpetual 
music  of  growls  and  hisses. 

Miss  Gret  professed  to  sympathize  with  her  cat. 
‘‘He  has  supplanted  you  at  the  parlor  fire,^^  she 
would  say,  fondling  the  feline  bullet-head,  “ and  in 
every  heart  but  mine.  But  you  must  fight  it  out.^’ 

And  they  did  j and  often,  when  the  two  had  been 
left  to  “ keep  house  ’’  down-stairs  of  an  afternoon, 
“ the  Missis,’’  in  her  room,  would  hear  the  canine 
yell  under  Gus’s  claws  ; and  then  would  come  a tem- 
pest. There  was  no  one  to  interfere  ; “ the  Missis  ” 
was  too  lame  to  come  down.  Miss  Gret  was  out,  “ the 
girl”  was  sewing  in  the  attic,  and  the  combatants  had 
it  all  to  themselves.  However,  noisy  as  their  con- 
flicts might  be,  they  were  seldom  sanguinary ; for 
neither  party  had  any  idea  of  grappling  with  the 
other. 

So  Shocky  grew  and  grew,  and  at  five  months  he 
was  considerably  larger  than  the  cat.  “ He  must 
stop  soon,”  said  Miss  Gret,  “ or  he  will  never  be  a lap- 
dog  as  if  Nature  had  not  denied  him  such  destiny 
from  his  birth  ! He  developed  legs  and  a pair  of  croc- 
odile jaws.  His  moral  instincts  developed,  too, 
and  he  became  an  arrant  thief.  “ He  is  a hunter,” 
“ the  Missis  ” said,  determined  to  prove  him  a dog  of 


Shocky^ 


53 


high  degree ; but  having  no  other  warrant  for  it,  in 
this  instance,  than  the  fact  of  his  hunting  the  neigh- 
borhood for  whatever  he  could  carry  off.  What  he 
might  have  done  for  wild  fowl  cannot  be  said  : but 
he  understood  the  pursuit  of  the  tame  sort : in  other 
words,  he  could  chase  chickens  with  anybody. 
Boots  and  shoes  were  his  favorite  game,  though  he 


HIS  FAVORITE  GAME. 


never  despised  a scrubbing-brush,  or  an  old  hat,  or 
even  a “gent’s  linen  collar.”  Edibles,  too,  of  course  ; 
meat  and  vegetables,  anything  that  he  thought  could 
be  of  use  in  the  family,  whether  he  liked  it  himself  or 
not ; and  once  a pound  of  butter  in  a paper,  just  as 
it  had  come  from  the  store.  He  brought  it  all  home 
as  fast  as  his  legs  could  carry  him  ; never  had  to  wait 
for  the  gate  to  be  opened,  having  learned  to  jump  the 


/ 


54  Shocky. 

fence ; and  very  pretty  he  looked,  rushing  along  with 
a towel  or  an  apron  flying  like  a banner  behind  him, 
He  brought  it  all  home  and  never  took  anything  away 
again,  being  no  “ retriever,”  as  far  as  the  neighbors 
were  concerned. 

“ Of  what  breed  is  our  dog  ? ” Miss  Gret  would 
inquire  of  any  one  at  all  up  in  dogs.  “ He  is  light- 
brown,  short-haired,  medium-sized,  with  a brass  collar 
and  padlock.” 

The  Fancy  shook  their  heads.  They  couldn’t  tell  ; 
he  might  be  a new  variety.  When  the  question  was 
put  to  Mr.  Gim  (Mr.  Gim  was  brother  to  the  little 
lady  who  owned  the  rag-a-mufiin  over  the  way),  that 
gentleman  looked  hard  at  Shocky,  and  then  he  an- 
swered, bluntly  enough : 

“ He  is  a curj^ 

Miss  Gret  was  indignant.  ‘‘  He  is  a hunting  dog,  of 
a new  variety.  I thought  you  knew  dogs ! ” 

‘‘  Had  Shocky  a grandfather  ? ” inquired  Mr.  Gim, 
with  the  air  of  a jurist. 

‘‘  I presume  he  had ; but  I never  felt  at  liberty  to 
inquire  into  his  family  affairs ! ” and  the  lady 
marched  off,  taking  the  young  hunter  with  her. 

When  about  half-grown,  Shocky  fell  ill  j not  seri- 
ously, but  enough  to  make  hunting  and  fence-scaling 
onerous.  Perhaps  it  was  incidental  to  his  habits,  or 


Shocky. 


55 


to  his  peculiar  breed,  but  something  was  the  matter 
with  his  paw.  A lump  had  formed ! It  might  be  a 
cancer  ! — he  must  be  taken  to  the  doctor.  “ The 
Missis’’  herself  had  been  ailing  for  weeks.  It  was 
nothing,  she  said,  and  would  get  well  of  itself ; but 
Shocky  required  medicine. 

So  Miss  Gret  tied  a string  to  the  invalid’s  collar 
and  set  out  with  him.  But  he  proved  contumacious  ; 
he  was  not  used  to  being  led.  He  didn’t  understand 
the  string,  and  he  wouldn’t  put  up  with  it.  He  jumped 
and  circled  and  rolled  over  and  over,  and  finally  sat 
down,  never  to  budge  till  set  at  liberty.  And  Miss 
Gret  untied  the  string  and  bade  him  follow  her. 

That  he  was  willing  to  do  ; did  it  gladly.  He  had 
never  before  been  so  far  from  home,  and  his  escort 
watched  him  with  much  solicitude.  But  he  kept  on, 
quite  gay,  yet  docile,  till  within  a few  yards  of  the 
doctor’s  house.  And  there,  on  the  steps,  sat  the 
doctor’s  dog,  a snarling,  ill-conditioned  object. 

Shocky  scented  a foe  and  stood  still.  The  foe 
growled,  bristled,  stepped  stiffly  round  and  round, 
then  turned,  and  chased  the  patient  out  of  sight. 

The  escort  was  panic-struck.  She  saw  them  go 
wheeling  up  the  street,  and  thither  followed  in  an- 
guish, as  fast  as  propriety  admitted,  inquiring  right 
and  left,  of  all  she  met,  nor  staying  for  the  answer  • 


56 


Shocky. 


calling  wildly,  “ Shocky ! Shocky ! ” and  looking 
this  way  and  that  for  her  cowering  charge,  or,  it  might 
be,  for  his  maimed  and  bleeding  corse. 

And  so,  in  an  agony  of  apprehension  and  self- 
reproach,  she  regained  her  home,  to  be  met  at  the 
door  by  the  irrepressible  subject  of  her  fears,  with 
all  the  signs  of  joyful  recognition.  He  seemed 
rather  weary,  and  had  come  in,  like  Mr.  Toodles, 
“uncommon  dry,’’  but  quite  unharmed.  He  evi- 
dently thought  he  had  had  a good  time,  and  was 
ready  to  try  it  again. 

The  doctor  prescribed  without  a personal  interview. 

It  was  a case  demanding  some  little  white  powders, 
to  be  taken  at  intervals  of  two  hours,  and  a box  of 
salve  for  local  application  as  often  as  necessary ; that  » 
is,  as  often  as  the  patient  twitched  it  off. 

And  then  began  the  treatment  of  the  case. 

It  was  never  difficult  to  get  Shocky  to  eat,  after  he 
knew  what  he  was  eating ; but  there  was  a course  of 
investigation  to  be  pursued  beforehand,  and  the 
investigation,  in  this  case,  was  fatal  to  the  desired 
result.  Finally,  when  several  days’  restoratives  had 
been  fruitlessly  dissipated,  Mr.  Van,  a gigantic  youth, 
who  had  no  objection  to  the  part  of  assistant  “ nuss,” 
came  to  the  rescue.  With  his  great,  strong  hands  he 
held  the  little  brown  mug  as  in  a vice,  and  drew  the 


S/ioc/cy. 


57 


jaws  apart,  while  the  head  “nuss'^  shook  the  pow- 
ders in,  clean  and  past  recall. 

That  worked  well,  and  the  patient  improved  as 
long  as  “ miss  number  two  was  on  the  ground.  But 
there  came  a day  when  he  must  go,  and  then  came 
more  fruitless  efforts.  At  last  the  “head  nuss ’’  hit 
upon  “ the  most  natural  and  obvious  course.’^  Shocky 
was  a dog  of  literary  tastes ; at  least,  he  had  evei 
shown  a liking  for  paper ; and  so  the  “ nuss  gave 
him  his  medicine,  paper  and  all,  and  the  dog  got 
well.  He  is  not  gone,  but  he  lives  there  still,  in  tes- 
timony to  the  value  of  homoepathic  medicines  thus 
administered ; and  so,  for  the  remainder  of  this 
sketch,  we  may  as  well  use  the  present  tense. 

Our  subject  is  now  in  his  fourth  year;  no  longer  a 
hunter,  distinctively.  He  has  become  a setter  — by 
the  parlor  fire,  which  he  and  Gus  have  learned  to 
share  in  tolerable  quiet.  Also  they  eat  in  peace 
though  not  in  amity,  off  the  same  platter,  their  noses 
often  touching  across  the  dish.  A foe  of  a deadlier 
sort  is  in  the  field ; an  ugly,  brindled,  bull-headed 
villain  ; vicious-looking  about  the  jaws  and  boastful 
about  the  tail;  low  in  habits  as  in  extraction;  for 
what  well-born  dog  would  have  a tail  like  a pig^s, 
with  several  curls  in  it,  and  ending  in  a sort  of  tuft 
over  his  back  ? This  desperado,  nearly  twice 


Shocky, 


Shocky’s  size,  parades  the  street  in  search  of  our 
thorough-bred,  attended  by  a disgusting  little  cur  as 
a sort  of  second,  or,  rather,  reporter  for  the  press. 
He  has  even- — the  adversary  — been  known  to  leap 
the  fence  and  invade  Shocky’s  own  grounds,  to  pre- 
cipitate a conflict.  His  retreat  on  these  occasions 
has  been  with  ignominy,  accelerated  by  hot  water  and 
various  missiles,  anything  that  came  to  hand.  Un- 
happily, as  yet,  the  water  has  failed  to  reach  him,  and 
none  of  the  other  missiles  have  struck.  But  Miss 
Gret  says  his  time  is  coming.  She  keeps  a hatchet 
under  the  back  porch,  hoping  for  a fair  shot.  “ And 
just  let  me  catch  him  on  Shocky  ! He  is  too  big  to 
throttle,  and  I don^t  want  to  get  hurt ; but  Til  pound 
on  his  eyes  till  he  loses  the  sight ! ’’ 

‘‘  Not  while  I am  about,’’  says  “ the  Missis.”  “While 
I live  he  shall  have  a home  and  kind  treatment.”  ^ 
For  “ tricks  ” lie  will  sit  on  his  haunches  and  give 
his  paw.  And  when  “ the  Missis  ” tells  Miss  Gret 
her  errands  he  listens  and  remembers,  and  keeps 
Miss  Gret  in  sight,  never  willing  that  she  should  “ go 
down  town  ” without  him,  except  on  Sunday,  which 
day  he  knows  very  well,  staying  quietly  at  home  with- 
our  any  fretting.  He  is  not  selfish,  nor  greedy,  but 
he  will  deftly  take  scraps  of  cake  from  between  your 
lips,  not  even  touching  your  mouth  with  his  own. 


Shocky, 


59 


And  he  will  stand  on  his  hind  legs  and  catch  bits  of 
cake  and  other  food ; or,  what  he  likes  even  more,  if 
not  too  hungry,  a lamp-lighter.  For  his  literary  tastes 
are  unimpaired,  and  should  a poem,  though  never  so 
“ weird  and  mystic,”  be  offered  him,  he  would  take  it 
all  in.  Yet  he  is  discriminating,  too,  “the  Missis” 
says,  and  knows  trash  when  he  tastes  it. 

And  that  suggests  the  propriety  of  submitting  this 
memoir  to  his  consideration.  But  we  will  show  it  to 
the  public  first. 


II. 


Augustus  has  his  three  meals  all  to  himself 
now-a-days ; and  he  can  sit  on  the  fence  and  cat- 
erwaul by  the  hour  if  he  wants  to  ; and  the  neigh- 
bors’ cats  walk  up  and  down  the  street  and  sit  on  the 
curb  stones  and  wash  themselves  all  unmolested. 
There  is  no  “ patter  of  little  feet  ” down-stairs ; no 
little  brown  “mug”  laid  on  “the  Missis’”  lap  as  she 
sits  at  table,  and  no  gentle,  brown  eyes  looking  up 
into  hers  to  ask  for  “ a piece  of  that.”  There  is  no 
waltzing  done  when  Miss  Gret  is  ready  to  go  down 
town  ; and  she  goes  alone  — for  Shocky  is  dead. 

“ Ah  ! ” says  Miss  Gret  remorsefully,  “ if  only  I 
hadn’t  taken  him  with  me  that  afternoon ! ” 


6o 


Shocky, 


The  weather  was  intensely  hot ; everything 
drooped ; the  very  earth  panted,  and  Shocky  took 
refuge  in  the  cellar. 

“ He  would  be  so  much  more  comfortable  there 
at  night, said  “the  Missis,’’  “if  he  only  thought 
so.” 

But  he  wouldn’t  think  so.  He  had  been  used  to 
sleeping  up-stairs,  sometimes  in  “the  Missis’”  room, 
sometimes  on  the  couch  in  the  hall.  When  “the 
Missis”  had  his  box  taken  down  to  the  wood-bin 
and  told  him  he  should  sleep  there  while  the  Dog 
star  was  raging,  he  said  nothing;  staid  in  it  very 
sweetly  in  the  daytime,  but,  when  night  came  and  the 
Dog  star  had  subsided  for  a time,  he  barked  and 
howled.  So  they  let  him  out  and  didn’t  try  it  again. 
It  was  dark  down  there,  and  damp  and  lonely.  No 
wonder  the  poor  fellow  objected  to  making  his  bed 
in  such  a place. 

“ You’d  rather  roast  above  ground  than  be  com- 
fortable a few  feet  under,  wouldn’t  you.  Shock  ? ” 
said  Miss  Gret  that  very  Friday  afternoon  as  he  lay 
panting  at  her  feet.  It  was  too  hot.  He  got  up  and 
went  down-stairs. 

“ Do  you  mean  to  take  Shocky  with  you  ? ” asked 
“ the  Missis,”  when  Miss  Gret  was  ready  for  her  trip. 

“ I suppose  he  must  go,”  Miss  Gret  replied.  And 


Shocky. 


6i 


Shocky,  who  had  been  listening  to  the  music  of  her 
walking  shoes,  was  capering  on  the  stoop  when  she 
opened  the  door  and  told  him  he  could  go  along. 

She  noticed  that  his  capering  was  less  brisk  than 
usual,  though  he  jumped  and  circled  and  barked  and 
scratched  at  the  grass,  and  then  ran  over  to  tell  the 
Rag-a-muffin  that  he  was  going  out;  and  they  had 
their  accustomed  race,  Rag-a-muffin  on  his  side  of 
the  fence  and  Shocky  on  the  street.  Then  he  trotted 
along,  this  way  and  that,  spying  out  all  the  holes  and 
corners,  down  “ areas  and  up  front  steps,  peeping 
into  the  houses,  chasing  the  cats,  and  pausing  now 
and  then  for  a word  with  other  dogs.  But  Miss 
Gret  saw  that  he  was  fagged  long  before  they  got 
home  again.  Such  a weary  little  face  he  turned  up  to 
hers  as  he  trudged  along,  his  tongue  lolling  — it 
haunts  her  yet. 

And,  after  all,  he  wasn’t  ready  to  come  in  and  go 
to  bed ; so  Miss  Gret  left  him  out  of  doors  and  went 
and  sat  down  by  “ the  Missis  ” and  told  her  all  the 
news.  And  by  and  by,  in  the  gathering  darkness, 
Augustus  came,  contrary  to  his  wont,  and  stretched 
himself  on  the  white  matting  with  the  air  of  one 
whose  rights  are  about  to  be  restored.  He  was  in 
advance  of  the  times,  however ; for  Miss  Gret  arose 


2 


Shocky. 


/. 


and  put  him  forth,  telling  him  that  it  was  better  for 
his  complexion  in  the  open  air. 

“Go  let  Shocky  in,’’  ^‘the  Missis  ’’said  at  last. 
“ I hear  him  at  the  fence.” 

And  at  the  fence  they  found  him.  He  had  tried 
to  leap  it  and  had  failed,  and  there  he  lay  on  the 
other  side,  writhing  in  a fit,  with  Gus’s  dilated  eyes 
peering  at  him  through  the  bars. 

“ He’s  been  poisoned  ! ” cried  Miss  Gret  in  horror. 
“ He’s  going  to  die  ! ” and  she  ran  across  the  street 
and  called  the  Rag-a-muffin’s  master. 

He  said  it  was  the  heat.  He’d  seen  many  a dog 
just  so. 

“ And,  sometimes,”  said  he,  “ they  die.  Go  get 
some  water.” 

Now,  the  one  thing  on  earth  that  Shocky  specially 
despised  was  water  externally  applied.  Poor  fellow  1 
what  times  they  used  to  have  on  Mondays  to  get  him 
to  take  his  bath  1 And  perhaps  it  was  the  mention 
of  water  just  then  that  brought  him  to  himself ; for, 
when  Miss  Gret  came  with  a basin  full,  he  had  strug- 
gled to  his  feet  and  stood  panting  in  the  path.  It 
was  so  dark  by  that  time  that  they  could  scarcely 
see  where  he  was,  but  they  heard  him  go  gasping 
round  the  back  of  the  house.  The  weather  was  clear 
and  warm  no  harm  could  reach  him  there. 


Shocky, 


63 


He  must  stay  out  to-night/’  said  Rag-a-muffin’s 
master,  “ and  in  the  morning  if  he  acts  starngely  at 
all  he  must  be  tied.” 

They  listened  for  him  through  the  night ; but,  alas, 
poor,  little  dog ! nothing  could  be  quieter  than  he. 
There  was  an  outside  stairway  leading  up  to  “ the 
Missis’  ” room,  and  in  the 
morning  there  lay  the  little 
brown  figure,  so  still  and 
rigid.  He  had  been  coming 
up  to  the  best  refuge  that  he 
knew,  and  death  had  over- 
taken him  on  the  way. 
They  brought  his  little  quilt 
and  covered  him,  and  Wil- 
liam King  was  sent  for  to 
come  and  dig  a grave. 


RAG-A-MUFFIN  ON  HIS  SIDE  OF  THE  FENCE  AND  SHOCKY  ON  THE  STREET. 


/ 


64  Shocky. 

Down  in  the  garden  they  made  his  bed  for  good 
and  all ; and  when  it  was  ready  Miss  Gret  wrapped 
the  quilt  around  him,  and  carried  him  to  his  place 
and  laid  him  gently  in  it.  And  then  they  covered 
him  with  loose  earth.and  banked  it  up  with  a shovel, 
and  the  funeral  was  over.  William  King  shouldered 
his  tools,  and  took  his  fifty  cents  and  went  home. 
Shocky  was  dead  and  buried,  and  ‘‘  the  Missis  ” 
looked  around  the  silent  place  and  felt  as  if  her  child 
was  gone.  There  was  his  breakfast  on  a plate,  and 
on  the  chair  cover  was  a mark,  so  fresh  it  looked  — 
the  print  of  his  little  muddy  paw.  She  almost  felt 
his  touch  as,  oh,  so  lately ! just  before  that  walk 
down  town  a few  hours  ago,  he  had  come  in  and 
licked  her  hand. 

And  the  poor,  lame  ‘‘  Missis  grieves  for  her  little 
friend.  Sitting  in  her  room  alone,  she  fancies  that 
she  hears  sounds  here  and  there  such  as  Shocky 
used  to  make  — climbing  the  fence,  stretching  him- 
self out  on  the  back  stoop,  or  the  one  little  stroke 
with  his  paw  against  the  door  in  lieu  of  ringing  the 
bell.  When  the  door  is  opened  she  half  expects  to 
see  him  come  trotting  in.  At  night  she  dreams 
about  him  j thinks  he  is  home  again,  hungry  and  tired, 
and  promising  never  to  run  away  any  more.  And, 
waking,  she  turns  her  eyes  to  where  he  used  to  stand 


Shocky, 


65 


of  a morning  silently  watching  her  sleeping  face ; 
and  then  comes  the  sudden  thought,  like  something 
new  and  incredible  — she  remembers  with  a pang 
that  Shocky  is  dead. 


• -f  : 


p 


